In the Midst of the Holidays

I have been a bit remiss on chronicling our family's excitement over the past two weeks... here's my shortlist of reasons:

5. Always snowing, can't get good pictures
4. Too cold to take mittens off to take pictures
3. Doing too many fun things, can't decide which pictures to take
2. David set my camera on "bluish" setting, hate what was coming out
1. Thought really long blog entry at the end of the time would give my 2 readers something to pore over on the boring days before New Years

Our friends Wendy, Doug, and Owen (current St. Louis residents) came back to town about 2 weeks ago, and it's been one long cross country ski after another. Occasionally, we take a break and snowshoe.

The kids don't cross country ski, although they requested them for Christmas. I'm not sure if it was because they wanted to feel some solidarity with me, or because that's the only winter outdoor equipment they don't yet own. They downhill skiid at Grand Targhee, hmm, I don't know, a lot in the past two weeks. It was not above 20 on most days (although hitting the balmy teens on most) - you will notice that they are almost unrecognizable, due to the fact that little or no flesh is exposed.


This shot (that David took, obviously - this kind of slope would cause me to die of fright) gives you an idea of what they ski down. The two black dots are the kids.

Here's more of the view up there -- am I crazy, or are these pictures bluish? Anyway, Targhee has had somewhere around 180" of snow so far this year. At a certain point, I think there will be nothing left that is non-white to frame the picture.



Christmas Eve
What better to do on Christmas Eve in a blizzard than drive to Kelly Canyon and take the kids snowshoeing? Why, I can think of nothing better. Perhaps it wasn't a blizzard, just a heavy snow? I think we got about 12" in town that day.

This was a fun trip, and not as adventurous as it may sound. David, Wendy and Doug attempted to help a sedan driver get unstuck on the way up the hill to Kelly Canyon, and the Pilot had to plow through many inches of snow on the way back (even on the main roads through town), but the snowshoe was moderate -- we turned around when we got out of the trees and had difficulty getting enough balance to remain standing. In the trees, it was peaceful and delightful - the delight wore off as the littlest ones tired, so we ended it around two hours and headed to the little pizza joint in Heise. Ethan had his second hot chocolate spilling of the holidays.

This is some awesome hair, Douglas Few.

Ethan tended to stay in the back, in the far back. He was convinced he would be yelled at for being too slow, and I think he was working hard to provoke us into proving himself true. I stayed very patiently behind him.

Wendy said, "You have to get a picture of that!", that being Lucy with snow encrusting her extra-long lashes.

David likes to challenge himself during snowshoe trips by carrying a child on his shoulders - I bet you didn't think it could be done while wearing snowhoes?


We ended Christmas Eve with some pretty traditional activites - attending the carols and stories service at St. Paul's at 7:30 (following a not-so-traditional Christmas Eve dinner of "what we had left in our refrigerator"), and then making classic cutout cookies with the kids.

So on Christmas day, after opening our gifts, we decided we had enough of the traditional, and it was off to the mountain again. This time we stayed overnight in our newly-purchased and shared second home in Victor. I'm anxious to put some pictures in here, but there is no furniture yet in there and it probably wouldn't look like much except wood and windows.

We skiid again the day after Christmas (Wendy and I in the backcountry this time), and then followed that day with a trip to Jackson. Wendy and I spent the day at the climbing gym, with the kids for the first part - I was anxious to get Lucy off to the pool so she'd stop showing me up on the climbing wall. For all my supposed upper body strength, I'm a pretty miserable climber at this point - but I have fun. Maybe if we get there again next weekend, I'll get some pictures that time.

I'll end with a few more pictures and captions -- I'll title this section:
David Fatiguing His Friends
David has boundless energy, which makes him quite lovable. On outdoor adventures, perhaps sometimes it makes those that join him a little tired? Doug and David cross country skiid the South Leigh Creek trail prior to Wendy and my trip on the day after Christmas - we were unfortunate enough to pick up their trail (despite an extra foot of snow on top), over streams and branches and almost ungoable places - leading us to nowhere. But we did get to make fun of them for taking 4-5 hours to do what took us 2.5. They claim they were "talking" and "figuring out where to go".

Yesterday, David invited Jonathan to a combo ski/snowshoe trip to Taylor Mountain, just south of town. Wendy and I had down this route about 10 days ago - it was actually a rare day where we saw a blue sky for a bit. Jonathan had about the same luck I had with my skis down there - one of the bindings refused to work (mine eventually worked), and he had to run back in his snowshoes. Phew!

And a final shot, to show the Taylor Mountain area (although it seems to make Jonathan look pouchy - hmm, should've touched that one up! I wonder what was in there?)


So much fun, so few days until January 2nd, when all goes back to schedule.

There's always two sides to a story

I spend a lot of weekends November through March engaging in back-to-back extended cross country ski excursions. Each year I seem to jump into it a little deeper a little quicker. Last Friday, I did the full track up at Grand Targhee - 10 miles, temperatures around 12-15, pretty decent snow falling the entire time. I had a heavy halo of snow encrusting my hair that I failed to pull back - I was wondering why everyone was looking at me so funny, and then I saw myself in the mirror when I went into the bathroom to change...

So that story's pretty straightforward. I had the usual inner right heel blister from the ski boots from hell and overall body fatigue that accompanies my ski experiences. So on Saturday, I wasn't particularly begging to go out again for a second day.

But it just so happens that the kids' favorite babysitter ever happened to just come back from college, and I suppose she must need Christmas money or something because she was ready and willing to take the crazy duo on for the afternoon. So David and I headed off to cross country ski - wasn't it a little questionable, leaving at 1:30?

So we headed to Harriman State Park, because I said, oh, I think it's closer and we never get to go there now that we're always in the Teton Valley. I always remember my skis at Harriman State Park with fondness - David pushed for skiing somewhere outside of Victor or Driggs, but I insisted it would be Harriman for the afternoon.

Harriman is always SO much further than you think it is - you think, oh, it's just past Ashton, and Ashton is only about 50 miles north on US20. It's just up the hill and up on the flats a bit. And you conveniently forget that "the hill" climbs about 2000ft elevation or so, that the "flats" is actually part of the Yellowstone caldera, routinely dumped with snow with roads that you're lucky if you can see the pavement in June. So you crawl those last 20 additional miles after Ashton, praying that the big trucks motoring up and down the hill hold their ground and don't jacknife as you are squeezing through them in the passing lane...and you remember, oh yeah, Harriman's a lot further than you think.

When we pulled into the parking lot, a family was finishing up for the day and the lady working the state park counter was yawning and looking about ready to pack things up for the day. We set out on the trail at 3:05pm. The nice lady packing up her stuff said, oh, you might be able to make it to the river (1 mile down the trail).

I had different ideas, and feeling very optimistic about my cross country skiing abilities, figured we could get in 8-10 miles before darkness fell - sometime around 5:00pm. Harriman is locally pretty famous for its excellent variety of trails - the lake loop offers some less groomed, slightly adventurous trail through the trees - probably the most picturesque and peaceful part of the park. Other parts of Harriman are more straightforward, regularly groomed and accessible for the newbie. "The Ridge" is truly frightening - not for the feint of heart - or for the Heather. I always think, oh yeah, that's the best part - and then curse my very existence the entire way down the hill, where I tend to fall headfirst into drifts, narrowly missing trees - repeatedly, not just once, repeatedly. So "the ridge" was out for today. I didn't forget the last time.

The park lady had told us, "We aren't charging grooming fees today because nothing's been groomed." I said boldly, "Oh, that's fine - I prefer it when it's ungroomed."

Sure I do.

We started with the lake, with David swooshing off ahead of me, waiting every ten minutes or so for me to catch up. I like to think I was trying to enjoy the scenery.

We went on up the west side of the park, and then decided to cut across the middle to keep within the more heavily forested portions. It was snowing heavily (I was wearing a helmet with my hair tied back to prevent the full-head snow halo), and it's just more pleasant in the trees, you know?

I freaking always get lost at #17. Always! You'd think I'd know where to go by now. Every single time I'd been here near dark, completely confused about which way to get back faster came rushing through my consciousness and I started to feel a bit of panic - esp. after heading down some old tracks with high hopes of seeing the main thoroughfare through the meadow, past the overnight huts, and ended looping back to where I had started. Hmm. 4:40, getting dark, we're the only ones out there, the snow still heavily falling... PANIC!

David says, you can't panic now! Stay calm, there's really no issue here. We'll just go back the way we came.

Breathlessly (almost hyperventilating), I'm like, uh, what if, where, how, I'm SO tired! And my blister hurts! And I'm tired! Need to get back! Ok, ok, ok. Just go back the way we came, except follow the north side of the lake. It's not so far.

Sure. That first mile, fastest skiing I ever did in my life - frantically chasing David through the non-groomed trails (regretting my bravado about the loving ungroomed trails earlier), trying to stay calm, but of course starting to freak out when it seemed like we kept reaching turn after turn, and where was sign #22?

Oh gosh. Finally. David says, it sure is getting dark now! Dusk, he says with exuberance! This is the best cross country ski I've done in a long time!

I'm thinking, I better damn well keep up with Mr. Happy Pants up there because I know what likes to come out at dusk... hunting cats, you know, mountain lions, bobcats, the like - or what if a moose steps out on the path between us and I'm stomped down to my death? I skii'd that second mile back even faster than I could've imagined.

Trying not to panic, my positive suggestion was that perhaps since the state park lady knew we were just going out, maybe somebody sticks around to make sure all park goers return safely?

Wendy reminded me today, not in Idaho - it's survival of the fittest - if you're dumb enough to go out on a ski in the late afternoon, you either get your ass back before dark, bring a light, or you're stuck out there. Nobody's waiting around to shuffle you out of the park like in the tame parks back east with the rangers touring the place at dusk (like at Ridley Creek last time we were in Pennsylvania and my mother-in-law and I were getting kicked out by the park cops).

It was never TOO dark (I guess) - what with all the snow failing and the snow on the ground. I stumbled back the last stretch, barely able to handle another rub on my now square inch of exposed heel flesh. And the drive back was special, too. I said, "Doesn't this remind you of a screen saver?" David realized he was being sucked in by the blizzard, put his high beams down and tried not to be mesmerized off the road. Fortunately the road cleared and I stopped shivering somewhere around the North Rexburg exit.

Good times!

And of course I'm purposefully exaggerating about as much as possible, because David expected it to be so - even while we were still out there, he said, "I'm afraid of how this is going to be portrayed in the blog!"

David's side of this story is much more cheerful, of course. It was in fact a really fun time for most of it, and you're never in too much danger in a place where there's signs at least every 1-2 miles (sometimes even more frequent). And anyway, what better way is there to spend a free afternoon in an Idaho winter?

A Week in Pennsylvania

Last week we spent a week gallavanting around the state of Pennsylvania visiting family, with the culminating event being the wedding of David's sister Sarah to my new brother-in-law Matt ("Big Matt") in Harrisburg. The last time I'd visited Harrisburg to actually do something there (and not just travel through it on an interstate) had been in 1st grade to go to the science museum downtown near the capital. That's 26 years ago, my friends.

Anyway, the connecting foot bridges between buildings downtown that I remembered being so impressed by at age 6 are still there, as is the science museum. I didn't get to tour Harrisburg much, but I will say that the downtown is actually quite attractive and more interesting than I expected.

But since last week was really a whole lot less about the tourist aspects of travel, and a ton more about the family aspects, I have to say that I have very few pictures and not a whole lot to say about Pennsylvania from the usual angle I take on the blog (the indifferent traveling observer? well, I sort of go for that, but maybe don't always capture it). I CAN say that how I felt about my visit to the Franklin Institute (big science museum in Philadelphia) was exactly how I expected to feel when I was pondering a comparison to the Museum of Idaho in a post I made before I left -- big, crowded, loud, harder to park (although better than last time), and overall a lot more challenging experience to get something out of for the kids.

But we were there with Zady and Matt and Jen and Grandmom, and after all, isn't that the important part?

That's what I got out of last week, and I especially felt it tonight, when I came home from my church meeting, breezing by David on his way out to the gym, thinking, boy, it sure would be nice to have someone to talk to. But it's too late to call anyone back east, and sometimes it's just sort of hard to call acquaintances or even friends you've known for quite a while just to talk. Sometimes you just want to talk about nothing to someone and not worry if that person thinks you're weird and doesn't want to take the time to just spend time.

We really got to see a lot of people last week, some of whom we haven't seen for quite some time, although there were still others that we didn't see that I wish I had (my sister and her family, my brother and his family, people in my parents' extended family). Despite sleeping in five different beds in 7 nights, driving a minimum of 1.5 hours every 1-2 days (and always in snow or rain, I might add), it was a truly memorable trip.

I'll just end with a picture of myself at the wedding -- I don't want to be presumptuous and put anyone else up in this public forum, although I will say that I have a lot of cute pictures of a certain two-year old that can sure capture your heart!

Taking a Day Off - Off Dry Ridge Road, Near Tetonia, ID

There truly are endless roads and trails to explore on skis in the Targhee National Forest. Last Friday, David and I slid around the ice covered Dry Ridge Road and stopped at a road (perhaps #613?) that went off to the right in what appeared to be a direction that might lead to nice view of the Teton range. With a pretty decent snowfall the day prior (12+ inches), and with no one back there since the snowfall, they were perfect tame backcountry cross country ski conditions. There was no wind, and the temperature was about 28 degrees.

We never came out to that perfect view of the Grand - David thinks that in the summer the view are a bit more open since the trees aren't completely loaded with snow. It was also a very cloudy day.

We went along for quite a ways on a pretty open road (wide enough for us to break trail side-by-side), and then the road kind of peetered out - and we followed the edge between the old forest (taller lodgepoles) and newer forest (trees my height, probably re-planted not too long ago due to a forest fire) until we reached a high point. It was about the summit. It was impossible to tell where to go from there, we were irritated by some obnoxious snowmobile somewhere in that area (not supposed to be allowed around there, and God, are they LOUD! Now I know what all the fuss is over in Yellowstone!), and it was about time to pack it in and turn around anyway. We had to go back down the hill the just trudged up, and it wasn't too wide or clear of brush...hmm.

So, first David fell and broke his pole about exactly in half, rendering it impossible to use for the entire approximately 5-mile trip back. Then, about 1 minute later, I tripped up on some brush and landed my knee into MY pole and IT broke - but near the end, and I just telescoped it out some more and I managed to use it the rest of the way.

Sam thoroughly enjoyed his romp, but injured his paw with the ice balls that form on his feet. We'll have to find some booties.

We met no stray dogs on this trip - if we had, we'd have known it was truly lost way out there. The only wildlife we saw was a single deer, although our tracks were criss-crossed with numerous ungulate prints of varying sizes. The bears are, thankfully, hibernating.

David says I look like a garden gnome in my hat.

We finished up our day together with lunch at the Warbirds cafe in Driggs. We were extremely despirate for food at this point (one of our talking points for turning around was my suggestion that I might have to gnaw off his bicep if we didn't turn around soon). The restaurant has a very excellent menu - I had a salmon nicoise salad with a side of homemade chips - mmm.

My favorite spot on the trail was a large stand of extremely tall, narrow lodgepoles.

Days off should always be so fun.

Special Wednesdays

The kids and I started a tradition this week (at least for this new trimester) of "Special Wednesdays". Now that their swim practices match up on 3 days of the week, we can take one of those days to explore the fun (although limited) "inside" things to do around Idaho Falls. I teach PE at the end of the day on Wednesdays, anyway, so it makes sense just to stay a few minutes until they finish cleaning up and look for something entertaining to do.

This week we went to the Museum of Idaho, which is currently featuring an Ice Age Mammals exhibit. Being a Wednesday, just about 1.5 hours short of closing, you might not be too surprised to hear we were the only ones there.



The picture above is a skull of a long-horned bison. I actually didn't know very much about the over-sized mammals that have been fossilized throughout much of Idaho - I remember reading about them at the Pocatello Natural History Museum a few years ago. We went through the exhibit pretty slowly, reading most of the signs. The highlight of the tour was the extensive discussion Ethan and Lucy had with a very friendly woman who was working on real bones near the back of the 1st floor exhibit. The kids got to hold the bones and ask questions about each and everything on her table, and she was nice enough to answer. We had a gaggle of old museum volunteers at the ready, ready to explain anything we might ask, or hold or papers to do the rubbings, or continually remind us of how much time we had left before the museum would close.

It'll be interesting to contrast our experiences in the upcoming week when we tour museums in Philadelphia - will we be able to park right out front, for free, and have an entire museum to ourselves, which, while it is tiny, what could be more valuable than having a real scientist show and explain everything to you?



The view from the top floor out of the large front windows is an interesting one - they actually had a video of this view showing how it looked and may have looked (for Ice Age times) over the last 12,000 years. That upstairs loft would be a cool place to have a get-together. The museum directors really improved the place over the structure that existed when we first moved here 7 years ago, and we always seem to have a pretty interesting exhibit, large enough to take about 1.5-2 hours, if you were to read all the exhibits in their entirety.



Next week we will be in Pennsylvania, but the week after we will be off in search of another special Wednesday destination.

Pocatello Winter Sprint Meet

More swimming results! Doesn't seem like we just went to a meet, like, a few days ago? It does to me. I, personally, was thinking the fresh 13" of snow that fell Thursday and the 5" that fell during the day yesterday at Targhee would mean a great day of exhausting myself on cross country skis. Ah, but that was not to be. Instead, we endured another grueling day in the heat, humidity and noise of a swimming pool.

I don't have many pictures from the event - I seem to have trouble with my flash at pools, and also, I was timing the vast majority of the meet. I figured I might as well make myself somewhat useful rather than sit there biting my lip hoping the kids do well on the sidelines.

Lucy tends to look a lot more nervous waiting to race than Ethan.



Ethan just looks like, Hey, when can we race? I'm so fast...



And he is fast. And so is Lucy. Lucy's first meet was at Pocatello - I remember sitting up in the stands praying she'd get across the pool o.k., without grabbing the lane rope or treading too much water trying to get there. Now, she's throwing a fit following the 25 freestyle because she didn't get below 18 seconds or show a second or more improvement (compare her first time of somewhere just below 1 minute for a 25 freestyle to the 18.00 seconds yesterday - in just 1.5 years time).

Here are the results of the meet:

Lucy
25 Backstroke = 24.34, 9th place out of 22
50 Freestyle = 39.69, 2nd place out of 18
100 IM = 1:49.34, 4th place out of 16 (9 seconds improvement!)
25 Freestyle = 18.00, 4th place out of 21
25 Butterfly = 22.91, 3rd place out of 17 (2.5 seconds improvement)

Ethan
25 Backstroke = 28.28, 5th place out of 14 (it was painful watching him lose about 2-3 seconds because of a "lazy" finish - i.e. kicking to the end with his arm stretched out behind him - I was the timer..)
25 Breaststroke = DQ - Ethan doesn't understand "slow" strokes. While he was swimming the backstroke, another timer who didn't know it was my son said, "Boy, that kid's just a crazy windmill!"
50 Freestyle = 59.35, 4th place out of 12 (6 seconds improvement in 2 weeks!)
25 Freestyle = 26.71, 6th place out of 12

My friend whose sons also swim at a lot of these meets always tries to remind them when they don't swim as fast as they wished that it is quite easy to lose perspective at these meets of highly trained little athletes. It's easy to get disappointed that you aren't tops, but you remember that you are competing with quite an unusual bunch for their age - most kids under 10 probably can't even swim a proper stroke, no less fast, down the length of the pool (and back, and back, and back - in the case of the 100 or 200 races they sometimes do). It's quite remarkable that they can get up on those blocks, attempt the dive in (there was more than one belly flop witnessed yesterday!), and race as hard as they can - I would think it's a lot of pressure, perhaps. Even if they don't take it seriously, it's still kind of a pressure situation.

Thankfully, I think we have at least a month before out next meet. Pocatello doesn't offer quite the excitement of Boise, but we did follow up the meet with a nice late lunch at the Continental Bistro on Main Street.